


Do you love me?

by booktick



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melisandre and Davos’ after a night at Lannisport Hotel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do you love me?

A/N: Modern AU.

Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.

* * *

Melisandre doesn’t ask this often, but she asked it enough for him to start to wonder if she really wanted him to answer. Davos is sure his wife wouldn’t appreciate that, wouldn’t appreciate much of what he does already but he still goes to Lannisport Hotel. He’ll talk all he wants about how the woman is nearly the devil himself, and how her hair is too red and she smiles too much—but he. still. goes. And he hates himself for it, almost as much as he hates her. That red hair of hers and that blasted smiled. It pissed him off.

That sincere way she could just carry herself with a silence that only grew with time. Silence bothered Davos more than he cared to admit. It was as if she knew that and tortured him with it, staring at him with those eyes of hers. He often pretends it doesn’t though; he’ll just nod it off or walk away, grunt and swallow his pride.

Stannis doesn’t tolerate much of what he says, but Davos still gets away with a few comments here and there. Stannis won’t have him talking about Mel like that, the man says, he won’t have Davos say such things even if they’re true, even though Stannis himself says things too. Davos thinks Stannis doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to understand. But that’s not what bothered him in the hotel room; he could take the silence even when it sent goose bumps up his arms.

He shouldn’t be here. That’s not what he wants to think, no, there’s always racing thoughts. What is it-? Something Stannis, betrayal and lies…something but all he can think is red hair flying and hands touching flesh. The bed sheets are still wrinkled and half way off the bed behind him. Davos isn’t even sure how they got here, one moment he was handing off papers to Greyjoys’ and then he’s suddenly having Melisandre ride his lap. He has to shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He opened them after another deep breath, a sigh followed though. It’s not the same.

“Do you love me?”

Even when he looked out the window and saw the city below, the busy cars and the chirping birds that went on by. It was her question, that damn voice of hers. She, asking him, Melisandre…his Mel. His Mel? When did she become his Mel? She belonged to no one, even if he said it, he knew it deep down—Melisandre wasn’t a damsel, wasn’t weak.

Melisandre would fight anyone tooth and nail over it too. He knew that much as well, last time he dared to say her blasted God should just turn back time since they were late for dinner. She gave him a lashing with her tongue and a smack on the wrist. Davos never said much about that for the rest of the night. He stands there though, with his feet stuck to the ground and his eyes on the city, fixing his tie. He can’t get the words out, his throat felt tight and dry.

His thoughts are scattered and he can’t focus. No, won’t. He won’t focus, that’s what he tells himself. Davos shook his head and tried to swallow again. It’s a tough decision for him, and he’s not sure why. Why he can’t just walk out that door and not look back, he’s done it before, he’s sure of it. Davos’ doesn’t like the way she touches him, or looks at him, it’s not like how she looks at everyone else…at Stannis Baratheon. How she looks at him…it’s like fire, and he doesn’t want to burn anymore.

“Davos?”

There she went again, with that damn voice.

He glanced back finally, not daring to move a step however. His eyes rested on her. She had her hair tied up again, bright red, no blood red—same difference. Mel’s eyes sharp as a tack and he felt his heart nearly get stuck in that same throat of his, made him choke on it with his caught breath.

Her hand at her hip is more than obvious because Davos is a man of enjoying sights, and she’s the sight, and he has to look away before he chokes on his heart anymore. The hotel room isn’t that big and he wonders for a moment if Stannis’ takes her to the penthouse suite or not. Stannis Baratheon always has the best, Davos has second best. That’s how it goes.

Davos doesn’t mind.

“Davos?” He’s forgotten to answer. Again. He does that a lot with her.

He had no trouble answering his boss though. No trouble answering anyone else but her.

Melisandre and her damn red hair. He shakes his head again, and there’s silence in the air. He needs to fix his tie and go, he needs to get back to the docks. He needs to answer that damn text from Renly. He doesn’t even know how that boy got his number (though he has his suspicions about it that goes by the name of Stannis.)

Davos’ not even sure if his phone is fully charged and this red haired vixen was asking him about love. There’s no time to be answering those sorts of questions. He’s eyeing the window by the time he finally turns around, even looking over his shoulder then as he faced her. The sun is rising, he needs to go.

She’s staring at him, still waiting. When Davos looks again, for more than once, he’s speechless for a few moments. He walked over a few steps “I got to go.”

“You _have_ to go or you _want_ to go?” Stannis often stayed. Melisandre didn’t ask why.

“That’s two questions.” He managed a kiss to her forehead, a hand at her cheek, maybe it’s her throat—he can’t remember anymore. She felt warm.

Davos grabbed his jacket next, eyes somehow still on her as he buttoned it. He finally looked away to grab his phone and watch.

“It is two questions, which go unanswered.” Melisandre is speaking to herself by that time, as Davos was already half way down the hallway of this floor, heading for the stairs. She wonders if he does love her though. It’s a passing thought, but it comes no matter by chance times of the day.


End file.
